


Where Love Dwells

by awkwardedgeworth



Series: Senatus Populusque Romanus [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Roman Demigods AU, tfw your godly parents meddle to get your love life together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9413090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardedgeworth/pseuds/awkwardedgeworth
Summary: At twenty-four, Yuri is unbelievably old by normal standards to find out about his godly heritage.The goddess's eyes darkens until he's starting into Otabek's face. She rubs the slight stubble on her— his??— chin, peering at a mirror that materialized out of nowhere to prod at Otabek's cheeks and nose, "Ah, so this is your beloved.""He's a friend!" Yuri chokes out, voice breaking.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i know next to nothing about the fashion industry aside from that fashion week is a big stinkin deal so i tried my best. apologies if it's not accurate. my fashion taste consists of sweatpants and scrubs.  
> also, i couldn't find the roman equivalent to the oracle of delphi from greek mythology so we're just going to stick with the oracle in this  
> this was going to be a percy jackson sort of AU until i realized i gave all my books to my cousins who lives in another country and thus i have nothing to refer so it turned into a roman demigods AU
> 
> not beta'd
> 
> Edit 2/13/2017: heck, why didn't any of you catch me writing Hermes instead of Mercury. anyways, it's fixed now.

At twenty-four, Yuri is unbelievably old by normal standards to find out about his godly heritage. 

" _What the fuck?_ " He screeches, grogginess vanishing as Sasha's hackles rise at the thick swirl of mist oozing out of the radiator. There's a sharp pain on the right side of his body. His phone alarm is beeping shrilly off to the side, but he's rooted to his spot as the vapour solidifies into a woman.

She tuts, blonde hair one second, black the next. Her initial face was attractive to say, but now even her features are softening and shifting here and there, it's becoming both mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. Yuri snatches Sasha in his arms and hugs the cat to his chest. This can't be happening now— he's too old god damn it!

"Such foul language used in my presence," Yuri feels his chest sinking when the blur of features slows down. The goddess's chest expands, and her long hair starts to recede into an undercut, her eyes darkening until he's starting into Otabek's face. She rubs the slight stubble on her— his??— chin, peering at a mirror that materialized out of nowhere to prod at Otabek's cheeks and nose, "Ah, so this is your beloved."

"He's a friend!" Yuri chokes out, voice breaking. The goddess smiles like she knows a secret, and _fuck_ , that's an attractive smile on Otabek's face, "What are you doing here!? It's not even seven yet!"

She twitches her hand and the mirror vanishes. Otabek's face slips into a neutral look, "I'm here to claim you, of course."

"Twenty-four is a _little_ too old!" By normal standards, children usually find out between ten and thirteen, no more than sixteen. Eighteen is ancient. Like, Victor-ancient. Yuri seethes a little, fingers digging into Sasha's fur as his phone starts beeping again, "I don't want to be claimed!"

"I understand that at your age," Her voice turns soothing. "Many have given up hope on being claimed by their godly parent, yet these things sometimes happen."

"Get lost!" His right shoulder is stinging smartly— the thing that woke him up. He doesn't even need to glance down to know that Venus's signature doves are being etched onto his skin with the phrase  _Senatus Populusque Romanus_ curling around below. What did he _do_ to deserve this? He paid his bills on time, was (usually) a good citizen, and played babysitter to Otabek's army of succulent plants. Venus-Otabek frowns and snaps her fingers, and suddenly there's a white dove flying straight into Yuri's face. 

He yells and avoids the offending bird, who ignores Sasha's hissing and seems complacent to roost on Yuri's bedhead, clucking softly as its pudgy, soft body settles. Yuri glares.

Venus-Otabek clears her throat, waving another hand to procure a letter out of nowhere again, and shoots it over to Yuri, "Like tradition, you shall be given a quest. I will be having a winter party at the end of January, and this will be your quest: bring this one—" Venus-Otabek taps her cheek, "—to the party, and have a successful show at fashion week."

"What kind of quest is this!? You want me to sabotage our friendship?!" Most people's first quest was to travel and fetch an item, nothing fancy, nothing too demanding. But this! This involves feelings! And Yuri's personal life! 

The goddess smiles lightly, "I never said to confess your love to him. Most mortals forget that while I am the goddess of love and fertility and all things such, I am also the goddess of victory, Yuri. You've done well, starting from YouTube tutorials to a local fashion show to your debut at twenty-four."

He scowls, "...I can't refuse, can I?"

"Not unless you want to incur the wrath of a goddess," She cheerily states.

" _Fine_."

"I'll be looking forward to the show then, see if you can spot me," The goddess giggles, "Don't overwork yourself, sweet one." There's a faint warm breeze that almost caressed his face, and Venus disappears.

The dove still sitting on Yuri's head clucks happily.

"Hey! Your forgot your bird!" He shouts to the now vanished corner of the room where she was standing mere moments ago. He lets out a growl before letting Sasha go, who streaks out of his bedroom. Grabbing the dumb bird, he looks at it closely, feeling the soft feathers.

His phone shrills again and he doesn't hesitate to scream into it without looking at the caller ID, " _What do you want Mila?! I don't get out of bed before eight!_ "

"...You were going to pick me up from the airport?" Otabek's tired voice buzzes in his ear, "Or I can grab a taxi—"

"NO! NO! Stay!" Yuri leaps out of his bed, opening his closet door and grabbing the first thing his finger touches. The dove clucks in a laughing manner as it flies out of his room. "Just grab a coffee and I'll be right there!"

Outside the apartment, he hails a cab and pulls up a website from the tablet embedded into the Vulcan made automobile. He orders Otabek's favourite to be sent to their apartment and looks out gloomily at the sunny weather that has graced New York, billboards promoting many different brands.

He sees Chris's face plastered in the back of the cab promoting an aftershave product and scowls at the thought that they're officially half-siblings now.

Otabek has twenty pounds of camera gear in his carry on and more in his backpack when Yuri waves to him from the cab. The driver takes them back to Greenwich, whistling a tune as Otabek groggily sways like a sapling before knocking out cold in the backseat. Yuri's lips goes up at the sight and he spends the rest of the ride playing on his phone, replying to emails and to his manager, Lilia.

When she updates him about the fashion week, he resists the urge to fling his phone out of the cab.

Yuri's not sure what happened, but the taxi driver, who had until now, been whistling, abruptly stops. He goes pale in the face and looks straight ahead, knuckles turning white. 

Yuri tries to discreetly angle his phone to see if there's a monster loose in the freeway behind them, but there's nothing. He frowns.

"Here we are, do you need help with the young man?" The driver nervously says. Yuri nods and goes to heaving Otabek's heavy bags out of the trunk. The driver slowly waves his hand to manipulate the air inside the cab so Otabek floats out undisturbed, following Yuri as he leads them to the elevators. 

"Thank you."

The driver waves, an eagle and the SPQR symbol on the palms of his hands, "It's a pleasure, you take care of yourself now."

Otabek is still snoozing, floating in the elevator when they get to their floor and Yuri starts dragging the luggages across the carpeted floors. He turns around to push Otabek but finds the man trailing behind, causing neighbours to plaster themselves to the walls for their morning run to avoid bumping into him. 

Home, he puzzles over how to get Otabek into bed without touching the bubble of air. He goes to Otabek's room and slides into his bed, the body following until his head brushes the pillow. There's a faint pop and Otabek sinks into the mattress.

Yuri closes his door and looks at the time. 09:07AM.

He looks down on his shoulder at the doves before sliding back into his covers. Maybe it'll be a bad dream.

* * *

The stupid bird is sitting on Otabek's head when Yuri drags himself out of his bedroom.

"Congratulations."

"Shut up," Yuri mumbles without venom, resisting the urge to slap a hand over the obvious mark on his right shoulder from Otabek. He goes to the fridge and pulls out a carton of apple juice, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Otabek motions him to come to the small table covered by the take out Yuri had ordered earlier.

"I should still congratulate you," Otabek says with a smile, still looking distinctively rumpled (but still stupidly handsome, like,  _how?_ ) from his thirty hour journey from the land down under to here, complete with two lay overs, "You _did_ want to know who your godly parent was." 

"That's because everyone I knew wouldn't stop rubbing it in my face when I was younger, especially the hag!" Mila, a fellow designer who graduated a few years before him, always flaunted about her connection with Minerva, which Yuri founded hilarious. Wisdom was not Mila's thing. He still has screenshots on his phone when Mila was hung up on Sara, and he thought she was supposed to be the one embodying wisdom.

Otabek smiles, "It's a wonder how we get along then."

"Yeees," Yuri suspiciously says, "Minerva and Mars never get along."

The outline of a small bear with its neck bent low is visible between the dip of Otabek's collarbones, the SPQR oddly etched around his neck like a collar.

Otabek turns pink, shifting a hand to cover half his throat, "You're staring," He hates it when people do that, which was why he owns more scarves than the amount of big cat prints in Yuri's closet.

"Sorry."

"...So what's your quest?" Otabek asks after a few minutes of silence. Yuri feels the spring-roll stick in his throat, and he makes a funny face as he tries to swallow it. An image of Venus-Otabek floats into his mind and mocks him. 

"She told me to have a successful fashion show," Which was code for he better get some fame from it or be at the mercy of her wrath. He decides to leave the other part for a later time.

"That's easy then."

"Are you done with yours?" Yuri counters.

Otabek had been at his quest ever since he was claimed at thirteen, and it's nearly been a two _decades_ , "Mars hasn't said anything."

Yuri scowls, "See, this is why I didn't want to be claimed. You got the bad end of the stick. What kind of quest is it to send someone off to 'explore the world' and 'take lots of pictures' and 'illustrate the mortality of human life'?? It's so long already!"

The son of Mars shifts uncomfortably in his seat and shrugs, "He has a lot of things to be doing—"

Yuri snorts, "Yeah, like claiming more sons and daughters. Look, fourteen years is _ridiculous_ , even Yakov thinks so! And his lasted seven years when he was our age!"

"Times change."

A roll of eyes, "Beka, you can't be doing this forever. You hate plane rides."

Otabek shrugs, "But I like photography, it balances out," When he looks up to see Yuri's face, he shoots him a small smile, "Don't worry about me, I'll just have to be patient."

Yuri frowns harder and stabs his chopsticks into another spring-roll.

* * *

On Saturday afternoon, Victor Nikiforov, also known as Venus's lapdog (his real job was Venus's representative on mortal grounds, or something that sounded like it was a lot of responsibility. Yuri was surprised that Victor excelled at it), flies into the den-transformed-work-room.

Victor tackles him, "Yura!"

That Saturday afternoon also marked the day Yuri nearly swallowed the three pins in his mouth, which would have been a terrible thing he's sure, _oh what a shame it is to suddenly not complete his quest!_ But that obviously doesn't happen since he quickly spits them out and turns around, ready to yell himself hoarse.

Victor doesn't give him any time to suck in air, continuing his bone crushing hug. The stupid dove Venus left clucks from its perch before settling down on Yuri's head, "Congratulations! I can't believe we're related now!"

"Don't say it like that, it's even more disgusting when we're all 'related' to Chris.  And get _OFF_ me! What did I say about bursting into here when I'm working?" Then something dawns on him and he quickly runs out of the room and presses his ear to Otabek's door, sighing in relief when he hears a soft snore from within. He stomps back, "Beka's sleeping! You could have woken him up."

"But I didn't, right?" Victor sings, still starry eyed. It's giving Yuri indigestion. He states as so.

Victor pouts, devastation knitted on his face strong enough to bring any normal mortal on their knees, but it bounces off Yuri. The stupid dove (he really needs a name for that thing) coos with him and sits on Victor's shoulder, "You're so rude, Yura. Venus even gave you her nice bird!"

He bends down to pick up the fallen pins and sticks it onto the wedge of cushion around his wrist, turning back to the fabric he was pinning, "I don't want that thing, go take it away from me. Make me chicken soup or something."

After he finishes pinning the fabric, Victor has made himself home on the only chair in the room. It acts as a storage for all the fabrics, and Yuri scowls in displeasure when he sees a white cotton print being rumpled, "That's not nice," Victor rubs the dove's beak lightly, "You're too cute to be cooked!"

"If you have no business get out, I'm busy."

"But don't you want to hear about my day? Oh, it's been a terrible week! The messaging system broke when we moved the entire palace from the Lincoln Memorial to the Statue of Liberty and Phichit spent all day with Mercury and they're still at it! Everything's in shambles!"

Yuri is ruffled, "Who even thought it was a good idea to move palaces again? Wasn't the move from Rushmore to Lincoln Memorial bad enough?"

"Well, Yakov handled that pretty well," Victor sweetly says, "He, Lilia and Celestino did wonders."

"Yeah, only took them five years, a shit ton of complaints, and lots of alcohol."

"So rude."

"You're under my roof, shut up," Yuri shoos him away and grabs the next fabric he needs to pin, going to a bare bust, "You mark my words, the next move will be to the Helmsley Building."

"Funny, that's what my husband said too."

" _Please_ stop, your were married _two_ years ago. Everyone knows you have a husband," Yuri then mutters under his breath, "And I can't believe he's Bacchus's son," There's a peck on his head and he yelps, hissing when the pins all fall and somehow maneuvered themselves to sink into his feet.

"My Yuuri is a hardworking demigod!" Here they go. Yuri rolls his eyes as Victor starts on his melodramatics, as if he hadn't suffered enough from the idiots who messed up his print order last month and gave him red fabric instead of blood orange. He focuses on not stabbing his fingers as the dove makes itself home on his head, "Yesterday he had to deal with someone turning one of the city's water reservoirs into mead!"

"Tragic," Yuuri Katsuki was also one of the rarer demigods who somehow have claims from both Bacchus _and_ Diana. Yuri is sure there's some explanation behind that, but he's not interested. 

" _Yuraaaa!_ You're so mean! How are you even Venus's son?"

"That's a question I want to know," He dryly says, "Do they usually make mistakes?"

"Nope. The current Oracle has a clean track for the past thirteen years," Yuri barely remembers who works which jobs in the palace. After eighteen, he has accepted that he was never going to get claimed and focused on making a name on Earth instead.

"I need to fight him."

At this Victor laughs, "You can try, Georgi is an easy crier. Would you like to know what happened on Tuesday?"

Yuri doesn't find out what happened on Tuesday since a shimmering hologram appears in front of Victor, complete with a cartoon of Phichit and Mercury in the middle before displaying a message. Victor jumps to his feet, "Ah, I need to go back to the office," He gives Yuri another hug and a soft smile, "Welcome to the family, I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yep, bye," His work room once again becomes quiet and he's able to focus on pinning. The dove, which he's compelled to call Popcorn from the amount of seeds and microwave snack it devours everyday, settles on a cushion and takes a nap. 

The passing of time is marked by the darkening of the sky, and Yuri rubs his eyes, collapsing on the wooden floor. That's where Otabek finds him five minutes later, dinner in his hand as he looks down.

"How's the weather down there?"

"Funny," Yuri gets pulled up and follows him out to the cramped dining table, looking at the stack of bills Otabek had been sorting earlier, "You should have called me."

He shakes his head, "You were busy."

"And you're jet lagged."

"It's fine," Otabek dismisses him with a wave of a hand, "I was talking to Mars anyway."

Yuri stabs piece of meat in his curry, "Oh? What did he say?"

"Nothing much, I was just updating him."

"I think you should appeal your case."

"I'm patient, it's fine," Otabek motions to the cardboard box in front of Yuri's room, "I think the sequences have arrived."

"Good," He was already behind, and it's only late September. The New York Fashion Week is in four months and he needs to make all his pieces, have a cast calling for models, fit the models, get a photographer since he has a spread on some local magazine that Lilia pushed him to do, book a venue, fight for a good time slot in the show, and be prepared to face the press mayhem and orders from big department stores if he makes a good impression— oh god he should ask Phichit for help. There'll be too many people and he's going to go crazy.

"Am I helping you with the model shots?" Otabek rarely participates in these kind of things, but he was the one who photographed every piece Yuri made when he was starting out in the city. Lately, his work (read: Mars's Fucking Quest) have forced him to travel out of the country for majority of the year. 

Yuri looks at the calendar Otabek pulled up on his phone, surprised at the emptiness, "You're not travelling?"

"I want to be here for your debut at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week," _Man down, man down!_

"Sure," Yuri hears himself faintly say, "I'm making thirty five pieces. Is that okay?"

Otabek nods, smiling at him before going back to his curry.

* * *

"—and the reporter had the _nerve_ to nod and smile, 'Oh, _of course_ you're chosen as one of the designers for Fashion Week! You're Venus's son!'" Yuri runs his mouth when he gets to Phichit's office in the Helmsley Building, October rolling through the city with Bacchus's signature Pumpkin Spice Latte. Lilia had to dig her sharp nails into Yuri's knee below the table to restrain him when the reporter had cheekily smiled. "I was claimed after I got my spot! They're idiots!"

Phichit offers a sympathetic smile, "That's how it is these days, people always think you got lucky because of your parentage."

Yuri sips at his pumpkin latte, which is surprisingly good considering Bacchus never dabbled in anything but wine and the other alcoholic drinks, "I have more interviews and they're all going to be stupid. The only one I like from the line up is Takeshi and Yuuko."

Popcorn flutters his wings before walking on top of Phichit's desk, blinking at everything he sees, "Hang in there."

"Help."

"I'll do my best, you're in good hands!" Phichit vows, "Though I can't do anything about the reporters that get sent to the fashion week itself, but to the local magazines and newspapers, that I can control. Somewhat."

"They need to stop underestimating me," Is all Yuri says before Phichit has to leave when a message about the toilets spontaneously shooting water onto unsuspecting customers in a mall makes itself known. Looking hassled, Phichit offers him some chocolate before teleporting, leaving a scent of anise behind him.

Outside the office, Lilia hands him a schedule of all the upcoming interviews, which is thankfully not until early December, so Yuri has more than a month of cutting off human interactions with irritating reporters. 

"The model casting is tomorrow," Lilia pins him with a glare, "Arrive early, and don't be late," She slaps the key to the floor they rented out into his hands, "I suggest getting a good night's sleep, but you never listen, so buy some coffee in the morning before you come."

"Okay," They separate after that as Lilia runs to her other designer who's also participating in Fashion Week. His name was KK or LL or something stupid. Yuri met him once at the annual year end party where he was Otabek's guest and nearly punched the dude.

Ugh, he's going to see him this year. Someone save him. Maybe he can train Popcorn to spear his eyeballs or something.

Otabek is on his laptop when he comes home, manipulating his photo onto a cover spread for National Geographic. Yuri is jealous of all the cool places he gets to visit and the food he gets to try and dives onto the couch, jostling him a bit.

"Tough day?"

"You would not believe the stereotypes people put on me now that I've been claimed."

Otabek shrugs, "I get that too, just ignore them."

"Yea, but you have it worse than me," When his eyebrows arches up, Yuri continues, "I mean, people must have said how you're better being in the military or police, right? That's what most of your siblings go into."

"Most, which is why I try to do things that don't relate to them," No doubt Otabek's been at the receiving end of how soft he seemed for the son of a war god.

Yuri grins, "Keep doing it."

* * *

Otabek finds Yuri barricading himself in his work room at two in the morning on December first, hands shaking as five energy drinks sit on the snowy windowsill. The son of Mars looks at the amount of loose thread on the floor and hanging off Yuri's pyjamas before he hoists Yuri up from a chair, dumping him on his bed.

"Sleep."

"But—"

" _Sleep_ ," He punctuates his word harder, and Yuri's eyelashes flutters slowly. Otabek usually would prefer to not use Mars's blessing on Yuri since his power of persuasion can bring even Victor to his knees (that was once, and they agreed to Never Bring It Up Ever Again). However, Yuri scowls at him with a knowing look.

"Cheater."

He runs a hand through Yuri's hair, "You're tired, you've been up for forty hours already."

"I can still do more."

"Don't be silly Yuri, you got strep throat last winter and were bedridden for half the year," Otabek knows he's going to pay the next morning when Yuri wakes up, but he now layers his voice thick, cupping Yuri's cheeks with both hands and lulling his voice into a smooth lilt, " _You've worked hard, now rest_." 

Yuri is snoring within three minutes. 

Popcorn quietly flutters from the living room and decides to sleep beside Yuri's head, working himself into a comfortable position. Otabek turns off the light and closes the door quietly behind him before coming face to face with Mars.

The war god slaps a hand across his mouth before he can jump.

"Apologies," Mars huffs, clothes shifting from army cameos to casual jeans and a leather jacket. Otabek has the same one as him, as the material is impervious to anything that can injure him and can shift into a sizable tent when he's out in the back country.

"Good evening," Otabek looks at the door before looking back at him. "Is something the matter?"

Mars, who towers a good head over him, manages a smirk. Otabek doesn't quite know how his family, mostly filled with demigods bearing Vesta's symbol and demeanor, had managed to produce a son like him that Mars took a liking to, "I've gotten a lot of complaints from a certain Yuri Plisetsky about hurrying your quest up. Do you know anything about that?"

He grimaces.

Mars nods, "That's what I thought. You didn't tell him?"

"Revealing my hand before the time is right is unwise."

"Yes, but I have an entire crate full of his complaints. Should I send them to you?" The god goads him, making Otabek's blood boil like he'd just been chased by a bear. The fury is a side-effect of meeting face to face with the god, he reminds himself, "It's only going to be any time now that he'll march into my office."

"I'm sure Yakov would handle things properly."

"We'll see about that," Mars tuts, he cross his arms, mist pooling at his feet in warning that he's going to disappear soon, "Well, congratulations for the sponsorship with Samsung, by the way. I can't stay long, there's another coup in another country. Your brothers and sisters need me."

"It's fine, thank you."

"I'll see you around, son," There's a faint pop and Otabek is left with the scent of charcoal, Yuri's snores increasing from his bedroom. 

He doesn't see any point in sleeping now, and decides to let his laptop warm up as he sweeps the loose thread from Yuri's work room into the garbage bin. Otabek sits on one of the two dining room chairs, trying not to think about the shattering peace on the other side of the world when Yuri and the others are living in peace here. Every time something shows up on Mars's radar, he always receives a formal letter asking if he wishes to join the fight and help his father.

He shakes himself out of the thoughts and focuses scrolling through his camera roll and sorting all the pictures on his laptop for future references. This is where Yuri finds him hours later when the sun has properly come up and he staggers out of his bedroom like a zombie.

"Beka!"

An angry zombie.

Yuri's face is flushed, "I can't believe you compelled me! That's not fair!"

He motions to the cans on the kitchen counter, "It's fair when you need to rely on energy stimulants to stay away."

"Don't get smart with me! I have deadlines!" Yuri shakes his finger at him as Otabek drinks his second cup of chocolate milk, "I need to get more tulle today and you're coming with me!"

An orange screen pops up in front of their faces, bearing a cartoon Phichit and Mercury as an official city warning displays itself. Yuri frowns, "Mercury's leaving office until the foreseeable future?"

"There's an outbreak in the East, he's the god of medicine too," Otabek thinks of Guang Hong, one of the friendlier half-siblings he usually talks to at Mars's year end parties. Yuri flicks the screen away from his face and shakes his head.

"Well, that's it. Phichit was the only thing keeping my life together and I'm doomed."

Otabek snorts, "Such dramatics, you're rubbing off Victor."

* * *

Yuri is going to strangle someone.

When the last model left the ballet studio he rented for the day where he had been given them instructions on their walk and posing, Yuri rolls on the hardwood until he hits Otabek's feet.

Otabek looks down from his laptop as he exports some photos, "The weather up here is great."

"Can you make it snow so the show gets moved to another month? A month of constant snowfall will give me enough time to finish everything."

"Ask JJ."

"Ew! I can't believe you two get along, how do you even stand him?" Yuri complains, head hurting from him not eating all day and surviving on whatever coffee Lilia bought him hours ago before she had to leave for the night. "I'm so tired I don't feel tired at all."

There's an amused smile playing around Otabek's mouth as he places his chin on his left hand, "Oh? Isn't that a good thing? You won't need anymore Redbull then."

"Bekaaaa!" Yuri has a tendency to turn into five year old when he's this tired. He doesn't know why Otabek hasn't hired a babysitter yet. The power of friendship he supposes.

"Do you want a massage instead?"

Yuri sits up immediately, eyes hopeful as Otabek takes that as a cue to lower himself on the ground. He moves Yuri so he's stretched out on his stomach, spread eagle.

The first touch is divine and Yuri sighs happily to the floor, "Are you sure Mars didn't bless you with supreme massaging powers?"

"You know what he blessed me with." 

Yuri quickly closes his mouth shut before he starts drooling, and swallows his saliva as Otabek's hands drift onto the kinks in his back, "Voice compelling powers to persuade the strongest demigods and an old, enchanted leather jacket. You know, if you use your first gift properly, you'd be unstoppable."

"I'm not going to take over the world or anything."

"No," Yuri hopefully says, "But you can convince JJ to make it snow for an entire month and prevent any of the overseas designers from landing into JFK."

" _No_ , we already know what happens when I use my powers."

"Yeah, the side effect was accidentally drawing every single blonde in a hundred meter radius straight towards you," Yuri snickers, remembering how he and Otabek had sprinted through Venice at the height of tourist season. Otabek had gotten ambushed by a blonde into one of the smaller city fountains before Yuri scooped him up and raced away, "That was funny."

"Speaking of which," Otabek tries to change the subject as he starts on Yuri's calf muscles, and Yuri moans. "Have you found out what Venus blessed you with?"

_Good question_ , "A great friend who can massage me and should convince JJ to make a snowstorm?"

There's a pinch on his leg and Yuri shrieks, leg kicking out to hit Otabek, who falls on him before chuckling. All tiredness abandoned, Yuri flips him over and tries to pin him down, grinning as they roll on the hardwood, laughing when Otabek wins with his superior tickling skills.

"I don't really need any of her gifts," Yuri quietly says as he looks up to Otabek, slivers of hair curling towards his forehead as the pomade gradually loses its hold. From this angle, Otabek is striking even if his dark circles is as dark as Yuri's. "I've managed fine for twenty four years, nothing's going to change now," He motions to rise, and Otabek lets him.

They clean the studio together, wiping the floors with the mop hidden in the small bathroom near the windows. Yuri clings to Otabek like an octopus as they weave through the dark streets, the motorcycle breaking the silence surrounding Yuri's head.

He doesn't know what Otabek has been doing as of late, but after they swallow a few pieces of frozen waffles and brush their teeth, he falls asleep on the couch, head thrown back.

It's a peculiar situation.

They were fifteen and eighteen when they met, and by then Otabek had already been claimed, Mars's dark tattoo visible from under his white t-shirt in the height of summer, New York resembling a furnace. From then on, the other kept vanishing and reappearing in Yuri's life, his passport full of stamps and short visits every few weeks that were never enough as he comes to Yuri's arms with the same tired smile and camera gear.

"This is the longest you've stayed," Yuri mumbles quietly to Otabek's sleeping figure, hovering over the couch, eyebrows furrowed. He wants to say a lot more, but there doesn't seem to be words that can explain how attached he is to his presence and the fear that will accompany when Otabek has to pack up for work again.

Christmas and New Years pass quickly. Yuri turned into a hermit and it took the combined efforts of Popcorn, Victor, Yuuri, Otabek and Mila to drag him out to see the fireworks. His apartment turns into an office and Otabek is constantly making tea or coffee for the models who have to drop by for the final measurements the weeks leading up to the show. Yuri promises him two presents for his next birthday.

"Little Fairy! There you are!"

"Get your nasty hands off me!" 

JJ clutches his chest and turns to Otabek as the stage officials are adjusting the light. On the stage, there are workers lying out a white fabric on top of the platforms, their voices constantly interrupted by the music blasting overhead, "How can you live with him, Otabek? You should move in with me!"

"And play third wheel to you and Seung-gil? No thank you."

"We were neighbours when we were little!"

Otabek shrugs, one side of his mouth curling upwards, "You moved back to Toronto for university."

At the same time, Yuri is pushing JJ away towards his no-shit-is-given boyfriend, "You two can talk at some other time!"

"Hey! I barely see him. You're the one he's living with, we haven't seen each other for two years!"

Yuri shoves JJ towards Seung-gil, flipping him the bird as he has to sprint backstage now for the dress rehearsal, "Does it look like I care? Get your own photographer, you bag of dicks!"

Backstage, Yuri lies victim to the large clouds of hairspray and setting spray from the makeup artists feverishly working, elbows jostling into each other. There's a tug in Yuri's gut and his eyes inadvertently follows Otabek's figure slipping between elbows, capturing some moments and immortalizing them on his camera roll. The black clothes and grey scarf should have blended in with the makeup artists and stage crew hustling around him, but it makes him all the easier to see. Yuri shakes his head and claps his hands together, barking out orders to snap himself out.

The stage manager, someone with a name tag read Emil gives Yuri a print out and stands next to him as they start. Yuri and he spend the next twenty minutes going over the things Yuri liked and didn't like in regards to the stage. He's speedy, and sends Yuri on his way as JJ's models take their turn.

"Before you leave," Emil calls him back, "Are you going to be inviting anyone to the after party? We need a name if you have one."

"Otabek Altin."

"Ota...bek...Al...tin," Emil scribbles on his paper, nodding and turning away, "Right, thank you. See you in a week. You're welcome to watch the other designers but we'd ask that you keep quiet."

Yuri gets kidnapped by Lilia and gets a lecture on going home and taking a few hours of rest. He exceeds her expectations and knocks out for a straight eighteen hours, couch cushion wet from drool as Popcorn made himself comfy on his chest.

* * *

" _What do you mean your idiot twin got food poisoning?!_ "

Victor stops his obnoxious ramen slurping as Yuri picks up a call from Sara in the middle of getting lunch. Yuuri manages to unfreeze in time and apologizes to the small restaurant as Sara eeps.

"He's not used to modelling, and I think he forgot that you're not supposed to eat seafood or any risky food before an important show—"

"DAMN RIGHT IT'S AN IMPORTANT SHOW! YOU AND YOUR BROTHER WERE OPENING FOR ME!" Yelling into the phone won't help a thing so Yuri texts Lilia in all capitals, asking if there are any back-up models available on the shortest notice he's ever gotten. He screeches when Lilia says no. His blood pressure right now is probably equivalent to Yakov's, if not more.

"Y-Yurio—"

Victor takes his phone and presses the end button before Sara suffers from hearing loss. Yuri feels a prickle of warmth on his left side and immediately feels more relaxed. This alone agitates him further, and he snatches his phone back from the traitor, " _Stop compelling me to feel better!_ "

"Ask JJ to borrow his model," Victor frowns, trying to calm him down. He does, however, stop playing with Yuri's emotions on his request.

"I can't! JJ's right after me!" Crispino is not only opening the show, but he's also wearing Yuri's twenty-first and closing piece. For someone who had been in the movie industry since seventeen, even if he was an actor and model second, Michele is a colossal git for eating sushi or whatever Sara had said he ingested. Yuri wonders how many bananas he needs to buy for the idiot.

"I don't think bananas can help that much," Yuuri says as he looks up from his phone, eyebrows sloped downwards, "Phichit texted me. Sara says he's going to the ER."

"What's Phichit doing texting you? Isn't he supposed to be helping Mercury?" 

"Yeah, but he's texting me anyway."

Yuri takes a deep breath from his nose, holding the air in his lungs for a few seconds before exhaling out of his mouth. Ideally, he would pick a model similar to Michele's measurements, but every model in New York is booked. He can't scrap that design without a very good reason, and this is not good enough.

"I can model?" Victor supplies, unsure. Yuri looks up and feels a wave of gratitude, but he shakes his head.

"You're taller than him, I don't have time to add more length to the pants."

"What about me?"

"You're too petite," He says to Yuuri, critically looking at his shoulders, "I can't change three outfits in less than twenty four hours. It has to be someone of the same build, maybe a bit shorter can work, but...." Yuri trails off, his brain presenting a terrible idea.

"Yurio?"

He slaps some bills down and takes off in the snow, cars honking at him as he runs across the road when the light is red. Otabek has no model training but he's been watching models strut on the catwalk for the past three weeks to take pictures of them. That must mean something right?

Otabek's in the middle of putting his head through a shirt when Yuri barges into his room, boots tracking water across the hardwood and panting.

"Can—" He struggles for a breath, "—Can you model for me, Beka?"

* * *

Otabek stays quiet as Yuri talks to Emil over the speakerphone, taking a seam ripper and feverishly slicing the threads holding the last few inches of the pant leg. He motions Otabek to stand on the stool in the middle of the work room and grabs pins, "—and Otabek's going to replace Michele, okay?"

"Noted, we got the memo from his agency. Is Sara okay?"

"She's fine, she'll open with Otabek tomorrow. I've already asked her to arrive early and give him a few pointers," Yuri mumbles a quietly apology when Otabek flinches from the needle poking his ankle, "Find the makeup artist who did Michele's face and ask them to come thirty minutes earlier. I have to change a lot of things."

"Anything else?" The stage manager has quickly became one of Yuri's favourite people.

"No."

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

Otabek shimmies out of the pants and sits on the stool as Yuri hunches over his sewing machine to immediately alter it, "It's a good thing," Yuri starts as the coffee machine in the kitchen beeps. "That you're more or less the same size as Idiot Crispino."

"I'm shorter."

"Better shorter than wider or smaller. That faux leather jacket took me ages. Thanks, by the way, for saving my life," His ears are red, he knows it.

"I'm more than happy to help," Otabek quietly says. "I just...don't want to mess this up for you, especially from how hard you've worked on this for the past year."

"You'll do fine, you've spent nearly the last month next to models and breathing the same air as them. Mimicking them would be easy, I believe in you."

"This is in front of thousands of important people and gods," He nervously reminds him. "And I'm opening your show."

"Sara has opened many shows before, she knows her stuff," Yuri flips the pants and throws it to Otabek, who has resigned to sitting on the stool with no pants, "Try it on now."

Yuri only gets three hours of sleep, shooing Otabek out of his work room. He even went so far as slipping in a few drops of a Hypnos made syrup that promotes good sleep in Otabek's last cup of tea. It costed Yuri an arm when he was still broke in college so he uses it sparingly now. In the safety of his work room, he grabs his coffee mug and adds Redbull into the mixture, praying to Venus that there's an extra makeup artist tomorrow who can make him look awake.

 

_In the early morning when the skies are still dark and the snow is still relentless with frost following his steps, Yuri places a bouquet onto a white, marble tombstone, crouching._

_He wipes the snow that has gathered there with his bare hands, feeling his chest squeeze. He didn't have time to make an offering for him, but he figured flowers were better than nothing and perhaps Grandpa will listen to Yuri before Lilia finds out that he's slipped out from the team breakfast at the hotel nearly._

_"It's happening," He states to the stone, shifting as he places his chin on his arms that are resting on his bent knees. "I can't believe it's today. A lot of important people from large department brands will be there, I might have a contract with H &M and their people. I hope you're doing well."_

_The stone doesn't say anything, but Yuri smiles at it anyway, albeit remorsefully, "I have to go now or else Lilia will get Yakov involved, and that probably means Victor will also come, I'll make piroshki next time, I promise."_

_Then he stands up and bumps his fist to the stone, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and walking back._

 

Otabek looks good. He looks more than good.

Chris lets out a whistle, hovering back stage as part of the Important-Guests-and-Honoured-Gods delegation as Yuri sips his water calmly (Lilia confiscated his spiked coffee), standing next to Otabek and Sara.

"Looking," Chris gives Otabek, who's standing stiffer than a post, another thorough head to toe. He'd first flinched at the almost neon leopard print dress shirt Yuri had on, but quickly redirected his eyes. "Very good. Very, _very_ good."

Yuri smirks and preens at the indirect praise.

A short reporter representing Mercury and Phichit chirps at him, eyes as wide as moons, "Yuri Plisetsky! Do you mind explaining the vision behind this look? It's very stunning!"

"Of course," Yuri grins, gesturing to the portion of Otabek's collarbones and neck that's dusted lightly with gold glitter that compliments his skin tone. There's only the faintest shimmer dusting Otabek's cheekbones that'll catch the light nicely when he walks down. "We're doing a sun and moon theme, representing a cycle starting anew everyday. I'm not overdoing his makeup, I want it natural. Refreshing."

Minami Kenjirou nods furiously, seemingly to forget that he's in the presence of Venus, who materialized out of nowhere while Yuri was talking and is emitting a lot of mist on the ground. Sara, Chris and Otabek dip their heads courteously. Yuri shoots her a thumbs up.

She winks at him before sweeping Chris away towards Victor and Yuuri standing next to a veteran designer called Celestino. The host shushes everyone and waits for the lights to dim outside before walking out, the audience applauding.

"Alright," Yuri walks through his models, nodding at them. "Don't trip, have a good time, change fast, and you're all welcome at the after-party to socialize," They laugh at him, but Otabek only turns paler at the mention of not tripping and Yuri quickly waltzes back to the front and holds Otabek's hands.

"Yuri—"

"You'll be fine," In reality, he's shitting his pants for both himself and Otabek, but it would do no good for the designer to be freaking out when his opening model is also his best friend who had exactly twenty five minutes of model training before walking out to the most hyped up fashion event of the year. "Remember, this is nothing compared to being chased after a mother grizzly bear in the back country."

There's a weak laugh, Otabek squeezes Yuri's fingers back, the dim light catching the faint highlight. "I'd rather face the bear to be honest."

"I'd probably do the same," Yuri nervously smiles as the crowd claps after the host had said his speech. Emil comes running to him and starts to tug him away.

In a mixture of half excitement and half terror, Yuri leans up to peck Otabek on the cheek, tearing away quickly as if his skin was burning. There's a small noise of surprise, but he quickly turns to Sara and squeezes her shoulder reassuringly before getting out of the way as the curtains draw back.

Victor can be seen frowning in the front row, sitting with Yuri, Chris and Venus (who, once again, looks like Otabek to Yuri). Most won't realize that Yuri had asked him to focus all of his weird calming powers to Otabek so he doesn't feel as nervous. Even if it's slightly cheating, Yuri will take the full blame; he's not sending Otabek out there without any backup.

Otabek hurries back with Sara hot on his heels, and he quickly strips, shedding the green bomber with an orange inner lining, the white tee under that and tight black leather pants. Two makeup artists attack him when he finishes putting on the next outfit, fixing his hair and wiping the sweat away from his forehead. Yuri eventually loses track of him and manages to enjoy the show, putting his trust in Emil and his team.

Venus-Otabek appears next to him as she watches his models hurry out one after the other. She squeezes his hand.

"I have a question for you."

"Go on, sweet one."

"Do you reflect someone's specific loved one every time they see you?"

"Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. It's a face that will put them at most ease," She wiggles her eyebrows at him. "Not many prefer to see me with a million faces flitting from one another each second."

Someone clears their throat behind them, and Yuri turns to see Otabek who flits his eyes between him and the goddess, looking slightly confused.

"Beka?"

Otabek gestures to the last few models standing in line, wearing his last piece, a simple leather jacket with ankle length jeans. His mark is showing through the glitter, looking like a dark choker with a bear pendant from afar, "The designer usually walk out with the last model, if what Sara told me was true."

He had completely forgot about that. Yuri turns to Venus, but she already disappeared. 

Otabek squeezes his hands, leaning closer, "Breathe, Yuri."

Then they're walking out and people are standing up on their feet, clamping the brochures between their body and elbow, cheering for him, taking pictures of him as Otabek plays with a small smile on the corner of his mouth. Yuri lets the atmosphere, the pulsing bass in the background and the heat of the lights send little zings up his feet as his face breaks into a wide smile. He waves to the crowd, hands still linked, and they cheer louder.

Yuri takes a final wave and grins, catching Mila's delighted smile and Victor sniffling into a tissue. His eyes might have been a little misty when he walked back in, but no one comments on it.

Otabek's skin is still glittering from the makeup, and Yuri watches the rest of the show in a daze, clapping for JJ and Leo and Celestino and every model and designer as the show comes to an end.

The man sitting next to Yuri wearing sunglasses taps him politely on the shoulder, "Your grandfather is very proud."

Yuri opens his mouth as Pluto gives him a smile and tips his hat at him before leaving. His representative, a young girl, follows him after a polite dip of her head. As they walk away, they seem to lose colour before blending into the background and disappearing.

* * *

He lets Lilia deal with the legal contracts in the after party as he slips out of the hotel downtown and walks to the waterfront close by. It's freezing without his thick coat on but he edges closer to the look out point at the end of a path extending into the ocean, his dress shoes crunching the snow below.

Yuri pulls out his phone and starts to make a grocery list, adding the ingredients for piroshki and the dangos Grandpa liked. Something heavy settles on his shoulders and he sees Otabek, nose red from the cold, with his own coat over his shoulder.

"It's quite warm over there."

"Yeah, Katsudon's also going ham with the champagne," He'll come back once Bacchus and Diana help the poor sap. "Is it too loud?" He knows that Otabek prefers quietness and things that does not involve Georgi the Oracle reciting a long poem about the woes of some tragic hero waiting for their beloved day after day as Chris accompanies him by playing short bursts of melody from a lyre.

A shrug, "Not really, Mila kept me company for a few minutes but she had to mingle, so I followed you."

"Thanks. For everything today. You did great," Yuri also knew that some designers offered Otabek their numbers if he ever wanted to continue modelling next season. Otabek even has his own tag trending on Twitter right now.

There's still glitter on his skin and at night with snow falling in the semi-darkness, he looks nothing like a mortal. 

Yuri's heart aches.

"You're welcome," Otabek stretches his arms up and lets them dangle as he looks at Yuri, "Seung-gil had my camera, he has some pictures for your blog."

Yuri makes a pleased hum, nodding. His limbs are aching and starting to shake from the cold; Otabek tugs him close to his body and steers him towards the hotel, their shoes making new footsteps in the snow as they move slowly. To Yuri, it couldn't been a better debut, he's still riding whatever high left from his show that morning. There's a few quick clutches to the arm or elbow when their ill-equipped shoes slide against the icy layers, and Yuri gathers up whatever energy he has left and opens his mouth, jerking Otabek to a stop underneath a streetlamp.

"Hey asshole, I'm in love with you," Yuri chokes, the words strangling his airways. He's aware of the heat that spreads around every exposed skin, snowflakes nipping his eyelashes as he digs his grave further. "Have been for a very long time. I...I thought you should know."

Otabek keeps infuriatingly quiet and Yuri is being cooked alive by the force of his embarrassment until he can't stand it anymore, snapping his head up and—

Otabek wraps him in his arms, a sort of breathless, happy laughter that sends tingles down Yuri's toes coming out of him. Yuri tries to pry him off his neck, but Otabek clutches on, arms becoming vice-like, "B-Beka—"

"Yura, do you want to know something?" Otabek pulls back a little, looking up at Yuri and not even masking the amount of wonder in his eyes. He doesn't need to even compel Yuri to listen, because from the softness around his eyes and the full blown grin spreading on his mouth has already brought him to his metaphoric knees, "My quest from Mars had two conditions. The first, you already know; take lots of pictures, illustrate the mortality of human life, and go to places. The second was to be patient."

He frowns, "What does patience have to do with anything? I thought we already established that he's an asshole."

"No, no," Otabek shakes his head, leaning closer and closing his eyes as they touch foreheads. There's heat radiating off his cheeks too even if the darkness and glitter is covering Otabek's blush. "The Oracle slipped it to him that my love life would be slower than most, and he told me to be patient. When I was claimed, the last thing on my mind was figuring out who I was supposed to be waiting for. It wasn't until I met you that I understood."

"Y-You—" Yuri splutters, "—You waited _nine years_ for me?!"

Otabek turns red and gives him a soft smile, "I don't mind if it's for you."

Yuri tries to show his fondness and exasperation into his kiss, bruising his nose in the process. Otabek takes it in stride and tilts his head to accommodate, fingers seeking warmth in Yuri's hair, opening his eyes when they separate to find their breaths condensing around them.

"You idiot," Another kiss, longer this time. Yuri pulls back to catch his breath, frowning when Otabek purses his lips. "What? What did I do?"

"I want more kisses," Otabek boldly states. When the strangling noises comes up from Yuri again, he has the nerve to shoot him a smirk, "Shouldn't you be glad I'm making up for lost time?"

"Y-You!" Otabek doesn't move forward as Yuri tries to find his words, failing spectacularly as he gives off his best impression of a goldfish. "Beka!"

"That's my name," A kiss on his hand, his pulse point, his neck, travelling up to junction where his ear and neck meets. "Don't mind me, I'm just enjoying myself." 

"Hey, when were you ever this smooth?" Yuri grumbles as Otabek pulls back from his cheek and looks up with an expression so fond that Yuri lasers it into his mind.

"Only for you."

Yuri covers his face, "Oh my god, Beka."

"No really," The teasing tone disappeared, instead, somberness replaced it. "I want to be completely honest with you.... I've missed so much of your growth since I'm never around, and you must have felt lonely at times, and I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you when you graduated and your grandpa died." 

"It's fine," Yuri picks up Otabek's hand and lightly traces the veins growing up his wrist, "I don't blame you if you'd lost faith in me at some point."

"Patience is a virtue; that's probably what Mars had wanted to teach me."

"And bravery always yields results," Yuri echoes, thinking of the knowing smile on Venus-Otabek the first time he met her.

"I'd still continue to wait even if it took you a few more years," Otabek gives a hopeless little shrug that only shows how smitten he is with Yuri before he suddenly sneezes.

Yuri tugs him forward towards the hotel, something full and warm blooming in the space between his rib cage, "Let's get you inside, Mars would be upset if I get you sick so soon after your quest is completed." There was something private about the walk back, and he stops before they turn the corner, the skies still snowing. 

"You know, having your power would be sweet."

Otabek raises a brow, seeing where this is going, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Kiss me," Yuri will deny when they go back home that his face had been red for the entire time he was with Otabek, but in four hours, he'll slip into his covers, Otabek, Sasha and Popcorn cuddling together as the sun slowly rises to shine its beams over their forms. For now, he closes his eyes as Otabek's cups his head and tip toes, obliging enthusiastically. 

They enter the hotel with their hands linked and a secret smile shared between them, making their way to Mars and Venus.

**Author's Note:**

> PSA: don't be like yuri and drink redbull with coffee. get some sleep instead. or nap. just don't mix the two okay?
> 
> this story was the only thing keeping me sane. i can smell the midterms coming closer. good luck y'all who are in post-secondary, i hope this story brightens your day! 
> 
> lowkey want to continue this AU story line, lowkey don't have time. we'll see, i'm getting invested in this c:
> 
> thanks for reading!  
> twitter @yaboyhajime


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